


I Dare You (All three installment as one)

by Nouveau_Monday



Category: As the World Turns RPF
Genre: Going to Hell, M/M, RPF, RPS - Freeform, i'm so ashamed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 20:25:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16126091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nouveau_Monday/pseuds/Nouveau_Monday
Summary: Part one summary: These dares they give each other are getting out of hand.Part two summary: Jake and Van discuss the merits of Bride & Prejudice. And then there is oral sex.Part three summary: X-Men3 is really gay





	I Dare You (All three installment as one)

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Umm ... RPS, so no actual spoilers, but reference to the smooching and bed jumping.  
> Disclaimer: This is in no way true. Never was. Never will be. Jake and Van belong to themselves, not me. And this is all the fault of some people from vh.net who suggested that we needed more RPS. And then someone suggested I try it, and then I did, and now I'm going to hell, but maybe people will enjoy the lovely decoration on the hand baskets.  
> Original Notes from May 2008: Also, just for my own sake, I finished this the day before Perez Hilton posted his piece about Van/Tyler. That means, I don't want to hear it, kay?

**part one: I Dare You**  
"I can't believe they're having us reshoot. What's that about?"

"You didn't read the new pages?"

"Not yet. Why would I? We nailed it the first time. You know we did."

Van shook his head. "Just read the new scene. You'll understand."

He watched as Jake flipped through the pages, scanned some of the lines. "This is dumb. We know Ameera is supposed to meet Noah at the house. She says so. Why are you and I supposed to be looking for her all of a sudden?"

"Keep reading."

"Oh." Pale skin flushed. Blue eyes brightened. Did he know he sucked on his bottom lip like that when he was thinking? "Seriously?"

"Yep."

"I thought they'd given up on it, somehow." Jake shrugged. "Seems like that was never going to happen again." His eyes passed over the same few lines again and again.

"Apparently you thought wrong. It's being added for some reason. Bet they got sick of all the bad press they were getting. The fans are rabid."

"Think you can handle macking on me?" The nudge to Van's ribs was supposed to be a joke, but felt like a jackhammer.

"I guess I can handle kissing you." Van blew his hair from in front of his eyes. Luke needed another hairstyle. This was getting ridiculous. "I mean, for the fans and all."

"Of course. For the fans. What did you think I meant?" Unsteady, too hurried laughter broke the calm of the moment. He reached to brush blonde hair from in front of Van's eyes. "When are they gonna let you get Luke's hair cut? It's getting pretty crazy. Think they're trying to hide your face so I control myself and don't just drop to my knees to prove a point?"

Van attempted not to swallow his tongue. "That would ... make a statement."

"Come on, people would love it. Think of the letters the P&G would get. Too funny." Jake glanced up at Van's silence. "No? Not funny?" He frowned. "Probably not, huh, with you just signing the contract and all. Don't worry. I won't do it until the cameras stop rolling." He stuck his tongue out and whacked Van's shoulder with the script he'd rolled up.

"Promises, promises, Silbermann. It's not nice to tease your friends like that." Really not nice. Van ached to get his hands on whomever thought writing in this scene without warning. Bad enough that he had to hide part of himself, not from his friends or his family, but from the media. Now he was supposed to act like one stupid kiss in how many stupid episodes was acceptable? Was realistic? He shook his head. "Come on. I'm sure you and I both need caffeine. And nothing is sexier than coffee breath and a million people shoving lights in your face when you're kissing your boyfriend." He elongated each syllable of the word boyfriend and admired Jake's blush. 

"We can hold hands on the way down to food service. Give everyone a thrill?" Jake raised an eyebrow in an unspoken dare.

"Smooth ploy, Mister. But you know what, I'm a good guy, I'll let you do it. Probably the most action you've gotten in months. You'd figure more girls would be all about you now that you're gay for pay. Aren't women supposed to be into that?" Van laced his fingers with Jake's, couldn't resist running his thumb across his friend's palm.

"Apparently they're all saving me for you, or that's what I hear."

"Umm. What?"

"Oh sure, we're one of those RPF power couples in the making. I mean, we're no J2, but yeah, getting there."

"You are speaking a foreign language right now. What are you even saying?" Van ordered two coffees, one light, one dark. He passed the dark one to Jake.

Jake angled them to a small round table with just two chairs. His body took up more space that Van's, and sometimes, though Van wasn't sure how, he was pretty convinced that Jake took up more room than Noah. "I can't believe for someone who is so computer literate, you're not the slightest bit curious about what people are writing about us. Do you not look at your own boards, dude?"

"Well, sure, I mean some times. It's just, I don't know, it's weird."

Jake nodded. "You don't know the half of it." He blew cool air over the styrofoam cup. "Crash course in fanfic, ready?"

Van swallowed. "Sure?"

"It goes like this. Fanfic is fic about what goes on in the story that isn't seen on TV or in the book or the concert or where ever. Comes in a couple different flavors. But we apparently thrill people because we're canon, the real deal, not imagining the big gay love. But RPF, that's different. Those people, they aren't writing about Luke and Noah. They're writing about you and me."

"Come again?" Van choked on his coffee.

"Oh yeah. There's a ton of it out there. A lot of it seems to be based around characters from the CW network. But I've noticed our names getting filtered in recently." He swallowed his coffee with religious devotion. Each cell opened up, became more alive. "Don't worry, this phase will pass. We're not as interesting as the guys who grope each other so publicly." Jake winked. "Who knows, though. I didn't see you complaining about holding my hand."

Van sputtered. "That was a dare! You! You did that on purpose."

Jake's stomach tightened, because, yeah, he was man enough to admit that he had done it on purpose. Probably not the purpose that his friend thought, but who didn't have an agenda in daytime TV? At least, he was man enough to tell himself that. Van didn't need to know all his secrets. "Totally did. The more press we get, the happier I am. Maybe I'll get a freakin' contract out of it."

"Still got you nervous?" Van frowned. "Don't worry so much. Noah's pretty much stuck with Luke, or maybe it's the other way around. Noah's been clueless recently with this whole Ameera thing."

"What are you talking about?" Jake wrapped his hand over Van's wrist. "Luke is the one that's playing games. He's a total cock tease. If anything is ever going to happen, Noah's gonna have to drag Luke off like he's some weird damsel in distress." The pulse under his hand beat hard and fast. He forced himself to meet Van's eyes. "You know I'm right."

"Whatever. That's my line. Remember? Noah calls and then Luke goes off to save his virtue from Ameera. Luke's gonna get fed up soon and just beat Ameera off his man with a stick." Van didn't move his hand away, but turned his palm slightly to run his fingers over the underside of Jake's wrist. He shook his head, but kept his eyes open. Jake's eyes were a stupid blue that sometimes made his stomach hurt in a way he'd rather not look at too carefully. "This is a moot point. They don't even kiss."

"But they will. Today." Jake swallowed. It wouldn't be the two of them. Luke would be in stripes Van would never get caught dead in. Noah would have some dorky earnest expression and, he wanted to groan, have to be all about pulling Luke in and forcing the issue. Damnit, why did Luke always have to be such a pussy about being physical? Couldn't he be the aggressor just once? Shit, he'd left his hand in Van's. Again. No more dares. No more teasing. No more touching, unless it was in character. Maybe the millionth time would be the charm and this time he would keep his promises? He snatched his arm back, wrapped his hands and fingers around his cup and shut his eyes. "How much time before we have to shoot?"

"Enough to practice."

Jake's eyes shot open. "To what?" Oh no no no. His voice had not just cracked. He snapped his eyelids down once more.

"Sure. There are words on the page. It's not just Noah slamming Luke up against the walls. Come on, Mister One Take. Let's do this right so we can get out of here. Maybe catch a movie or hit a bar or something after?" Van breathed deeper at the thought of some alcohol. Jake was always touchy feely in a guy-kinda-way, but with a little alcohol there were fewer inhibitions. If anything were to happen, not that it would or should or hell whatever, but if anything were to happen, they could at least blame the booze and laugh it off.

Van stood up and Jake did not follow the lines of his jeans or fixate on his belt buckle. He did not remember the feel of hands inside his, or the sweet coffee scent of Van's breath when Luke nuzzled against Noah. He just didn't. This train of thinking was a wreck waiting to happen. "No bars!" Alcohol and a fucking girl crush. He didn't think so. Especially with Van's habit of sitting in his lap once he was sloshed. Only so long before Jake wasn't going to be responsible for grabbing Van's hips and holding him still just long enough to scratch this stupid itch. "But a movie or something could be fun." Dark theaters. No chance for temptation. No visible erections. That was good, real good. Jake stood up, coffee in one hand and script in the other. No chance to make Van think anything stupid needed to happen for whatever paparazzi might be around. He'd never been so relieved for the stupid Don't Ask and Don't Tell policy that P&G seemed to insist upon. "Or we could have an X-Men marathon at one of our apartments or something. Just chill." Wait? What? Had he just? F-u-u-u-c-k. "Or umm, coffee and a movie. There's a few things I wanted to see." Jake kept his mouth shut and his distance. He rolled his eyes. When had he started checking out Van's ass exactly? Jesus. This had to stop.

"Sweet. Let's see how the scene goes and then decide? Come on." Van winked. "We don't want to have to make out a million times. Let's get this right." Definitely no repeated kissing. Lights, directions, whatever, it didn't matter. Jake's lips against his, and those hands on him all possessive and grabby. God. This was embarrassing. He was a professional. Professional should not sport wood over co-workers and, more importantly, friends. That was tacky. And wrong. And not his style.

*****

The Old Town set was empty. Everyone else was somewhere off filming the heterosexual angst that kept the show running. No one paid attention to the two actors wandering around storefront facades and meticulously spaced tables and chairs. Jake bit at his lower lip. "Okay, so we're running around like chickens with their heads cut off looking for Ameera, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Then Luke gets all maudlin and goes to leave. Stiff upper lip and all that. Have a good time with your wife, idiot, I'm going to go and plot her downfall and figure out how to break you up, blah blah blah." Jake skimmed his script. Why was this always happening? Why did they continue to write them both this way? Maybe this was why he didn't have a contract? He wasn't subtle enough about the sloppy mistakes in their storyline. "And so apparently, I say fuck it and lay one on you. Probably because I'm starting to get desperate. Dude, isn't it about time Luke got some balls and kissed Noah?" Jake couldn't stop the irritation seeping into his voice.

"Umm, because I'm under contract? And the AFA is a pain in the ass. So if worse came to worst and Noah forced Luke up against a wall and had his wicked ways with him, you can leave, but I'm not. Jake, I'm sorry. I know all this talk of contracts suck. And it's fucking ridiculous that you don't have one, but seriously. That's what this is about. Noah has to be the aggressor. I'm the cute one that all the women either think is soooo sweet or they want to be my mom or something else equally weird." Van rubbed at the tension in Jake's shoulders. "Come on. It'll be okay. You know Luke loves it when Noah gets all toppy anyway. Let's see how we can entertain ourselves with this."

Jake leaned into those capable hands more than he knew he should, but didn't care. The lack of contract continued to burn. "Mmmm. How about Luke gives Noah shoulder massages every day. That could help."

"Or how about we make this scene so intense that the fans are talking about it for days and that the AFA knows we're saying, 'Bite us'. How about this scene is so scorching for the two boys that everyone knows we're doing it for the fans. Come on. I dare you. It'll be better than holding hands or another stupid interrupted moment." Van's words were soft behind Jake's ear, promise, laughter and sweet coffee. He bit back what might have been a whimper if he'd let it be. Which he wouldn't. Because, duh, friend and co-star.

"H-ho-how do we do that?"

Van breathed deep. It's not nice to trick your friends when they don't know you want them. It's wrong and bad and... Oh, fuck it. "I was thinking, what if we tried to, I don't know, let the AFA know we were on to them."

"Sure. Okay." Just don't stop touching me. "And again, how?" Jake looked at the script, read the lines, where was room for the grand gesture Van was envisioning? There wasn't room to improvise a sex scene, and it's not like that wouldn't get cut ... Though there was that other scene they edited in. And it had totally been Van's idea to be commando. Or, shit, that one hadn't been. That had been his fault. No more bars with Van for a reason. He remembered it distinctly now. Alcohol on his tongue, protesting The Man keeping their characters down, and then a lapful of co-star laughing at him and daring him to do something; pole dance or give a bottle head or blow him for that matter. The something was a bit vague, but he remembered responding with the fact that he would do that when Van went commando on set. Christ, this daring each other thing had to end soon or they were going to both get fired. Or his dick was going to explode. Or both.

Van reached around Jake's arm. "Look here." He pointed to a set of lines. "It's the perfect thing. Come on. James Bond code. Think about it. Luke is all, 'What about the ICE?' and Noah is all demanding and 'What about them?' You can glare at the camera. Give a smoldering look of 'Fuck you AFA.' It's an awesome metaphor. And the hotter the kiss, the better the line." He slid his body parallel to Jake's and elbowed him. "And after all, Mr. I-Know-Far-Too-Much-About-What-The-Internet-Thinks-Of-Us, how many times is that image going to be captured of you looking like some porn star turned romance cover model?"

Jake blushed. "I don't look like that. Can we just go through the lines before they find us?"

"You have to promise first. I held your hand. You seduce the camera. Come on. It's your turn." Van opened his eyes wide. He might have been trying to pout but the smirk stopped it from being successful. "You know you want to do it. You're a better at this whole gay pride thing than I am. The poster boy for all things American, heterosexual, safe and still sexy when playing queer." His laughter held a bitter tinge. Van fisted his hands into Jake's shirt and insisted he look at him. "Come on, Jake. Do it. Send the message that I never can. Please."

Shit. He closed his eyes. "Stop begging. It's unprofessional. Yes, yes, okay. I'll do it. I don't think it will mean anything, except confirming that you are insane, but I'll give dirty looks to the camera. Can we maybe read lines or something? You know, like you said we would." He curled his fingers so tight against his palms he thought he might bruise himself. Axe murderers, pimples, zoos, clowns. Axe murdering clowns with pimples at a zoo. Jake shuddered at all his nightmares in one, but at least he wasn't dealing with his own dick when he should be concentrating.

 

*****

Jake paused on his mark. He ran the actions in his mind. Say the line straight. Be earnest. Look almost pathetic in your love. Look around to make sure no one's there, but not too much because you're focused on Luke. Keep your eyes on Van as much as possible. Turn him around. He should be the one facing the wall. You with your back to it. You should be a little bit hidden just in case, and then lean forward. We want a couple different angles, so expect to hold the kiss for a bit. Just pause as you lean in and wait for your cue. He could do that. He could stare back and forth and smile at Van. Picture him whispering 'Fight the power' and 'Queer pride for all' and 'Pornstar cover model go!' when they were supposed to be concentrating.

And man, was he concentrating.

Jake made sure everyone could tell Noah concentrated on Luke's jacket, his arms, his shoulders, his eyes. He swallowed. "Luke, I want you to know that every day I think how lucky I am to have you." Van's eyes were impossibly brown and even harder to read. He looked like he was going to laugh. Jake hoped he hadn't just swallowed a piece of garlic or hot peppers or something equally gross. 

Van smiled and looked somewhat flustered like he'd been told. "Well that's all I need to hear." He blinked. Why was Jake staring at him like that? Oh wait, right, he was supposed to do that. Hell. Script one. Stupid crushes on straight friends zero. The flutter in his stomach sucked rocks. Jake was staring, manhandling Van around the set like he was supposed to. Wait. Damn it. What was his line? Oh right! "What about the ICE?"

Bang! That was it. The line Van had told him to focus on. Think AFA not ICE. Think P&G. "What about them?" Apparently Van knew his shit, because the disgust that Jake felt, the frustration, and embarrassed longing, it all spewed forth in that one sentence, and he still sounded headstrong and so damned sure of himself. Which, whatever, wasn't true, but hell, as long as the cameras didn't know his heart pounded. He surprised himself for a moment but then he froze like he'd been asked.

"And cut. Perfect. Don't move guys, just a moment, need to adjust the cameras ... and the lighting ..." Jake held his breath. Inches from Van's face, he smelled mint and deodorant, but nothing evil. Apparently that shy smile had been him acting. Because he was an actor. Actors act. It's what they do. They don't want to bring their poorly written soap storylines to reality because then they wouldn't be acting anymore. They would be idiots. Jake was not an idiot. He was just, umm, moved by the scene or something. By the relief of Noah finally getting some kind of action. It wasn't that he knew in a few more moments when they unfroze that Van, no damn it, Luke would be kissing him. Fuck. Kissing Noah right, that's what he meant all along.

"Cameras ready? All right gentlemen, let's do this. Action."

Jake pulled at Van's jacket like he was supposed to do. Noah always grabbed at Luke like he couldn't get enough. And then, wait, this hadn't been staged.

Van slid his fingers into Jake's hair at the base of his neck and pulled him forward. He tipped Jake's head and winked.

Jake didn't moan. He wouldn't. But he also wasn't expecting his co-star to slip him the tongue. Soft lips. Warmth. The slightest hint of stubble was awesome against his face. He could do this for hours. Getting paid to make out was maybe the best job so far, and okay, so it wasn't quite making out, but maybe some day. Not elevator sex, or anything, but making out would be nice. His fist tightened on the jacket, and one kiss became two, then three. His head spun as he forced himself to note cameras and lights and booms and not the briefest taste of something so much stronger than mint and Old Spice. Jake's lip tingled with saliva and Van's lip balm. He had to lean back, had to take a breath, anything. His chest spidered warmth across his lungs and down. Blood zipped through him heading right for his dick.

"And cut. Keep breathing gentlemen, but don't move. We're rolling back to see that we got it."

No movement. Jake closed his eyes. No looking at Van. No wondering about what he was doing. He promised himself it was those stupid dares going out of control. That must have been it. Van couldn't actually give the people he wanted to the middle finger, so he made sure to let everyone know he wanted to do just that. With Jake's mouth. When had Jake's mouth become Van's mouthpiece? He sighed. About the same time, he had promised to be snarky on camera for him. He panted as quietly as he possibly could, praying that one take for once, would not be enough.

"Well done. Jake, as always, your nickname proves itself to be true. Van, great job. Now you're going to pull away first and then Jake, stay put a second. Watch Luke walk away, but remember, for the first time in a long time, Noah is happy. Sure of himself."

Right. Sure of himself. Absolutely. Absolutely sure he was crushing far too hard on his friend to make anything okay again.

"And action."

Jake managed not to swear. He pulled Van in and kissed him, hard but firm twice more, then pushed back with his palm so it would like he was going to yank him closer. He watched the flash of something in Van's eyes, before he followed through with direction. Luke's hand reached up to pet Noah's cheek before he walked away. Jake watched his steps until he was out of camera line and smiled. Everything seemed so easy when their characters weren't touching, but now, with all these edits. Man. He stared at the camera and all but licked his lips. What was in Van's lip stuff? He swore he still felt it. Screw anyone who said this was wrong or bad. Pornstar turned romance cover model just like Van said. He adjusted Noah's bag on his shoulder and followed his marks off the floor.

"And done! Great work the both of you. You're done for the day."

Jake whirled as soon as the scene was called, but Van was gone. No way. Absolutely not. He dashed across the set, ignoring the people calling his name, in the direction his friend had taken. "Van! Van, wait up!" From his movements it looked like maybe he was headed toward wardrobe which, okay, made sense if they were done shooting, but seriously? The hell, man? "Van," he panted as he caught up to him. Long legs had to be worth something now and then. "What was that?"

"What was what, Jake?" He sighed. Van wondered if sprinting wouldn't be subtle enough to make Jake get it.

"What was that, man? You dared me to posture at the cameras a little, but I didn't? We didn't? Just, what the hell?" He clapped a hand to Van's shoulder. "Stop running, would you?"

Van stopped. He met Jake's baby blues head on. "Luke's clothes are bugging me. I need to go pick up food, if we're watching movies, and I swear, someone put itching powder in the make up. I'm not running from you, Jake. Why would I do that?" He paused, watched Jake processing what he said, held his breath and hoped that what he said was convincing. "Can I change now?" Okay, so that was a big lie, but hey, chalk one up for being an actor. Lying to remove awkwardness almost made up for having created said awkwardness in the first place.

"Yeah, sure. I'll, umm, catch you up. You want to watch at my place or yours?" He frowned as Van barely turned to say "Yours" before fleeing Jake's space.

Something was off, but damned if he could figure it out. Why was Van freaking out? Shit. Had he said something on set to give himself away? Christ, if he were Van he'd be bolting as well. Jake bit his lip. Hell, hell, hell. His skin felt tight. Nerves pricked at his shoulder blades. Van was right. There was itching powder in the make up. He paced back and forth, staring at his watch and muttering for ten minutes. Ten minutes should have given them enough breathing room, right? Van must be about done. They can talk dinner and movies and things would be fine. Better than fine. Good shot, good scene, good food, great company. All the makings of a spectacular day. Optimism. Calm, cool, he could play that. He was an actor. Jake gave up on his pep talk before he went looking for a life coach and some aromatherapy and headed to change.

*****

"So, I was thinking Indian?"

Van had appeared out of nowhere and startled Jake with those words, but Indian was good and Van knew what Jake liked. "Awesome. I have to finish getting this junk off my face. You might have been on to something with the itching powder." He wrinkled his nose and bent closer to the mirrors. He pressed his lips together and did not think about the taste of mint haunting his tongue.

Van swallowed. Jake's shirt rode up and teased him with a strip of smooth muscled lower back dipping into low-slung, loose jeans. "Jesus," he whispered. He couldn't peel his eyes away, even though he tried. But there was Jake's back and Van's mouth dried up and damned if he didn't just want to lick down his spine. These stupid reshoots were going to be the death of him. The kiss today, that weird bed scene the week before. Jake half naked. his hands bound up, caught in the shirt that locked his arms tight behind him and highlighted truly bitable arms and shoulders. Fuck me. This is a bad idea. "I could go get it? Want the usual?" Van forced himself to turn from Jake's back. His breath hitched. Somehow that question seemed so much more loaded today. Now. Hell.

Jake nodded, kept his eyes closed. No, I want the unusual, you idiot! "Surprise me. So, umm, my place has a better set up." Or at least a couch and not a bed where they watched movies. "Surround sound, and my microwave is working if we need popcorn."

"Popcorn and Indian. Pure class there, Silbermann, pure class." And yeah, okay, so a sofa was a better idea than his bed, but damned if his bed wasn't comfortable. Dangerous, but wicked nice.

"Yeah, yeah. If it helps, I also have good beer and mango sorbet?" Jake made another face. "Is all this stuff off the back of my neck?"

"You had me at beer." Van spun slowly on his heels. At least, with Jake standing, there was no skin showing, but the column of his neck looked tasty. "There's some behind your ear." He couldn't resist flicking at the back of Jake's left ear. He grinned at Jake's wince of surprise. "Gotcha."

"Jerk. No beer for you if you keep beating me up." Which really? Probably a good idea anyway. A buzzed Van was a touchy Van, and Jake kept forgetting his own no cuddling the friend rule far too often.

"Aww. Why you gotta be like that?" Van rubbed at Jake's ear where it had turned red. "Come on, you'll be fine. Promise. Won't even need a kiss better." He swallowed against his own perverse urges. "Okay, I'm out of here. See you at your place in a bit. Don't take all day primping, Gorgeous."

"Shut up and go get food. I'm starving." At least his voice hadn't cracked. That was an improvement. He scrubbed the make up from behind his ear extra hard. "You're an asshole, Silbermann." He stared at his reflection in the middle. "A dumb cliché of an actor, falling for your co-star. Get over yourself. And for god's sake, get over Van." He tossed the tissues and wipes in the trash and headed for his apartment to make sure the couch was devoid of anything that might make them sit too near to each other.

The walk from the subway was uneventful, but Jake couldn't stop the inevitable loop of Van after the shoot to Van flicking his ear, calling him gorgeous and running away as fast as possible. Maybe Van was buttering him up with good food and movies so he could tell him that there was never going to be anything between them and Jake should just go get laid, you know, by a chick. His heart thumped as he dashed to catch the elevator before it closed. Or maybe? Maybe Van knew what was going on, and slipping him the tongue had been a hint that he knew and agreed that any sex they had would be the hottest sex in the world and who needed girls when you could have your friend instead. Or maybe ... ? Jake didn't know whether to laugh or cry as the other people on the elevator got off immediately when he talked to himself and slapped his forehead. "Maybe I should just get over myself and be realistic. Don't lose a friend. For fuck's sake, don't lose a job, over your hormones."

*****

He buzzed Van in an hour later and wiped his hands on his jeans once more. The apartment was clean. The extra pillows on the sofa were tucked on the bed and out of sight. He'd tucked the beer to the back of the fridge and pulled soda and water to the front. All porn and chick flicks were hidden. Jake had not-so-subtly displayed action movies where plenty of shit got blown up and his XBox forward. This was manly, and guys and absolutely nothing but testosterone. Which was not him, and really he thought Bollywood and Indian sounded perfect. And Van would as well. Because he was a loser and always managed to find a way to make Jake like him that little bit more. He started at the knock on his door.

"Gonna let me in?"

"Keep your pants on." Jake mentally slapped himself and opened the door. There was no way in hell he was going to make it through the evening without alcohol. He should have known better than to try and hide it.

"Not a problem. Your hallway is cold." Van slid by Jake into the living room. His arms were loaded down with more paper and plastic than Jake thought he'd ever seen. "So, umm, you said 'surprise me', and I wasn't sure what that meant. I maybe bought one, or ten, of everything."

Jake covered his smile behind a cough. He grabbed some of the bags from Van and dumped them on the coffee table. "Guess it's a triple feature for us tonight, huh? Matrix? Bourne Trilogy? X-Men? Die Hard? The original Star Wars? Take your coat off. Make yourself comfortable. You want that beer now, or later?" Because, yeah, liquid courage and a lap full of Van Hansis all of a sudden sounded like an excellent combination.

"Now would be perfect and I'm disappointed. I was expecting at least one offer of Bollywood. I know you've got it. Or at least some Kung Fu for an Asian flair." Van eased himself into the corner of the sofa. It smelled like Jake, and how unfair was that? He inhaled and exhaled, trying to find a sense of balance.

Jake popped the top off two beers and leaned against the door frame. "So here's the thing. I do have Bollywood. I do have Kung Fu movies. And you know that."

"I do." Van blinked. Where was this going?

"And I'm irrationally angry that you mentioned them right now. So take the beer, drink it fast, because we have to talk and I don't want you to freak out." Jake walked to the couch and handed over the bottle. Maybe glass bottles weren't the best idea when he was about to say what he was about to say.

Van did as told and gulped his beer. He edged himself further into the corner of the couch. "Okay? Hit me. Why are you angry that I know about your Asian movie collection? It's not like it's a secret." The condensation from the bottle dripped over his fingers.

"I know that." Jake placed his bottle on the coffee table. "Just, hmm, truth or dare, Van?"

"Are you insane?"

"No. Truth or dare, pick one." Jake stared at the floor, at his hands clasped together, anywhere but at Van's face.

"Are you high then? It doesn't smell like you've been smoking up, what's going on?" Van finished his beer and shoved the bottle to the table.

"I don't smoke. I'm not insane. Will you answer the damned question? You're going to have to deal with both of them. So pick your starting poison." Jake's palms were sweating. He could feel the flush spreading from his chest and up his neck.

 

"Right. And I'm supposed to be the crazy one. Good to know. I'll make sure to straighten that out with any interviews we do in the next year." Van brushed his hair from in front of his eyes. "Shit. You're serious. Okay, okay. Truth it is. Sounds safer." He stared at the black screen of the huge TV on the wall.

Jake breathed deep. "Not what I was expecting. Here goes. Just listen." His stomach hurt. "Yeah, so today, we had this scene right? And it's been fine between us. We're friends. You like me. I like you. And there's been no kissing. No touching. For over 200 days. Which has been great, because then I don't have to deal with all these things about life imitating art and lame shit like that." He held his hand up when Van tried to interrupt. "You said truth first, and even though it's usually the other way, I'm going first. My rules. So shut up. The thing of it all is that today was just weird. And it's been building to this weirdness for awhile between us. But then you slipped me the tongue on set and now I didn't want to drink my beer because I just wanted to hold on to the taste of mint and you for a little bit longer. After, Van, after you said you just wanted space and implied that if anything was off, it was on my end. But that's bullshit, and you know it. You fucking frenched me on camera, Hansis. We were both there."

"Jake, I was kidding. It was a dare. You take things too seriously." Van studiously avoided Jake's eyes. "I'm hungry. Can we eat and forget this happened?" He wanted to roll his eyes, but his stomach hurt and he didn't want to talk about it. Ever. It had been a stupid move and now everything was screwed up.

"Not yet."

"Yes yet. Now. Look, if you're going to get your panties in a twist about a little fun, I'll just leave. Give me a minute to grab my half of the food. You don't have to pay me. Consider us even." Van stood up. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide their nervous shake.

"Wait just a second." Jake stood up and somehow managed to get up in Van's space. His voice was all rough and low and desperate. "So maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I am the asshole. But we need to stop these games before we get fired or you get outed or something. So, shit. Look. Let's make it even. Say 'Dare' and let me, and then, it'll be done. We'll watch Kung Fu and eat Indian and call it a night."

Van hated the whisper of his voice, rich with something he didn't want to name. "Dare."

Jake tucked one hand into the small of Van's back and skidded the other up to cup his chin. "Let me do this, just once. Please." He took the slightest nod as assent and tipped his head. Timid at first, Jake let his lips brush over Van's. There was no camera, no lights, no booms, no directions. There was beer and mint and that scent of Van. Jake touched the tip of his tongue to his friend's mouth and waited to be punched in the eye or the jaw or the balls. He pushed his luck and his mouth further, testing, waiting, being there.

"God, Jake. This is a bad idea." Van's hands fisted into Jake's hair and pulled him closer. He licked into his co-star's mouth and thought of a million reasons why this shouldn't be happening, why they shouldn't be doing this, and all of them seemed really really dumb. Urgency scorched across Van's senses and he wanted more and more. Jake tasted like honesty, sex and toothpaste. "A really bad idea."

"I know." Jake's voice faltered as he licked across Van's jaw and bit his ear. "But you started it." He sucked on Van's lower lip, slipped his tongue back in to memorize the feel of his mouth. "You've been daring me to do things almost since we met. And they kept getting more and more intense and then I realized that, well, this. I wanted this. Right here. My tongue in your mouth. Your hands on my skin. I wanted what Noah was too much of an idiot to get from Luke. And I was not about to one-upped by a character on a soap, even if I play him."

"Jake, stop talking. You talk too much. Just kiss me again before we both come to our senses. Go ahead." He winked. "I dare you."

 

**part two: A Really Bad Idea**

 

Van let his body go limp onto the couch and tumbled Jake on top of him. The weight and press of Jake's body was even better than he imagined; rough, strong, hard. They never got horizontal on set, and maybe there had been a good reason for that. It was difficult to say your lines convincingly while trying not to spontaneously orgasm. Or at least he imagined it would be. "A monumentally bad idea," he breathed, even as he let his fingers tangle in the slight curl of Jake's hair, tipped their mouths for a better angle.

"We covered that part already." Jake's lips shifted open. His tongue curled around Van's, slid over the roof of his mouth. 

Beer and toothpaste and Jake, better than any of the awful things they had done to each other on set. No garlic, or chives or hot peppers or, god, what had he done that one day? Sardines. Man, he was awful. He couldn't help it. He laughed. He really had eaten sardines before that scene in the truck where Luke macked all over every part of Noah except his lips. No wonder they went over two hundred days without kissing.

"Want to let me in on the joke?" Jake had pulled back, sat up. He wiped his mouth while he frowned. "Was I? Did I do something wrong? It didn't feel like something wrong. I know we said this was a bad idea, but I didn't think you meant bad as in funny. I didn't even know that bad was synonymous for funny." He attempted to adjust the buttons on his shirt. His fingers drummed on his knee, and Van wanted to suck them into his mouth.

"Shit, no, I wasn't laughing at you." He tried to catch his breath. "I was thinking about the awful things we've done to each other. That everything bagel with garlic cream cheese and lox before that kiss where the Colonel walks in? You're a jackass, Silbermann. You deserved the sardines. And the jalapenos." Van tried to hide a giggle, would firmly deny it if ever asked, but Jake looked so worried still, not fully trusting that Van was telling the truth. He straddled Jake's lap, grabbed the fingers that he had admired moments before and wrapped them around his hips. "I think we might be making a big mistake, but I'm not laughing at you."

Jake's shoulders relaxed. His hands kneaded at the cotton of Van's shirt, slipped his thumbs under to rub against soft skin over hard muscle. "Promise?" He hated how his heart beat, couldn't stand how Van kept saying this was a bad idea. Because yeah, okay, monumentally stupid idea, but there it was. They were on his couch, legs entangled. The scent of Indian food filled the apartment. There was beer and Bollywood if he bothered to go through his DVDs. It didn't sound like a bad idea. It sounded a little bit like perfect. He let his hands move fully under clothes and over skin to splay across Van's abdomen.

"Promise." Van rocked his hips forward, spread his legs a little wider. He'd been kissing boys since he was seven, but with understanding since he was twelve. He needed to remind himself that this was new to Jake. He licked across his neck and bit right above his Adam's apple. Jake's low whimper made everything, and damned if he didn't mean it, everything that much harder. "This okay?"

"Very okay." Jake adjusted his hands to the small of Van's back, held him in place and thrust up at the same time. "You're the one talking too much now. I'm not a girl. I'm not going to break. I kissed your first, idiot." I did. Didn't I? I fucking kissed him first. Jesus. I am Noah. He dove head first into Van's gorgeous mouth. Teeth and tongue, sloppy wet and stupidly right, Jake wanted to beat his chest and purr simultaneously when he noticed Van's breath catch and his cock grow harder. He didn't let up until his brain pointed out that oxygen intake meant more chances for kisses whereas blacking out equaled nothing but a waste of time.

"I know you're not a girl." Van tugged one of Jake's shirts out from his belt, yanked at the buttons of the top one. "You wear too many clothes. And I do know you aren't a girl. I wouldn't be trying to get you naked if you were." He fought the last button with a flourish that sent it pinging across the wood floor, managed to shove up all their shirts and get them skin to skin. "Oh God." His eyes crossed behind his eyelids as he pressed his forehead to Jake's.

The dull edge of Jake's fingernails dug half-moon imprints at Van's back. His chest rocked forward until he couldn't get any closer to Van without being inside him. "You have a weird understanding of naked. I've seen you wearing less on camera." He scraped his teeth across Van's jaw. Stubble. Huh. That was different from anything he'd experienced recently. Not bad, but different. "And I'm pretty sure last time we were in a similar position you were commando."

Van's laugh caught Jake off guard, hit him behind the ribs, took up residency. 

His fingers cupped Jake's face, tilted to reach his ear. Van's breath was warm as it eased over Jake's neck. "Who said I'm not commando now?" Van reached behind his back to grab Jake's hand. Not so subtly - but was there a need for that now? - he pushed Jake's fingers below his belt, behind his jeans, placed them so it was obvious that he wore nothing but denim. "Never assume anything. Didn't you learn that rule in elementary school?" He swiped his tongue across Jake's lips, jacked himself forward for emphasis. "I told you earlier I thought there was itching powder in the make up. Thought I was going to jump out of my skin during the shoot, couldn't bear the idea of more clothes than absolutely necessary." He wrinkled his face. "Anyway, I was coming over here to watch a movie with you and chill. Why did it matter what I was, or you know, wasn't wearing?" Shit. He was babbling. Why was he nervous? It wasn't like this was new to him.

Except Jake's cheeks were flushed and the blue of his eyes - which managed to look washed out on camera in comparison to now - were practically all black pupil. His lips were swollen. His breath ragged. Fuck if Van had ever seen anything hotter. He looked like porn personified. Crawling out of his skin didn't seem like a bad idea when Jake stared at him and said nothing. "What? Stop looking at me like that."

"You. You're here, sitting on me, and you're not wearing underwear."

Van smirked. "Hate to break it to you, Silbermann, but it's not like this is the first time. Can't stand it. I only wear it on set when the pants aren't mine. That'd be gross."

Jake slumped back against the sofa. All the times Van had poured himself into his lap after too much alcohol. The interviews and red carpet appearances where he had casually slung his arm over Van's hips. All those times that Jake had wanted to throw him against a wall and fuck him blind and the entire time ... His brain sort of exploded. His fingers traced the crack of Van's ass. He smiled at Van's shuddered response. "I had no idea."

"Apparently." The silence in the room emphasized the moment their stomachs grumbled. "We should eat, or something."

"I vote for or something." Jake's voice was extra low and rough. It curled Van's toes inside his sneakers.

"Me too, but," he stood up, winced at the tightness of his jeans. "I think we should eat. Pause for station identification and all that. When was the last time you ate?" He gave in to the urge to smooth Jake's shirts, run his fingers over his torso. "Coffee and a beer hardly count as a solid meal, even if you'd been drinking Guinness. Which you weren't. Also, we should, I don't know, talk about this? You think?"

Hell no. I think not. If Van thought about it, he might decide it was a bad idea again. That it shouldn't happen. Jake sighed. "I could eat. Kung Fu or Bollywood? I picked up Bride and Prejudice the other day. It's not authentic, but it's cute. And it has Aishwarya Rai in it." Right. See. He could play not desperate. This was fine. They had time. Surely this wasn't over? Right? Hell. "Umm, if I get up to get plates, you're not going to run out the door or anything? And maybe we can get back to the making out part also, after we eat?" His face burned. He stared at his shoes, the wall, wouldn't meet Van's face. Jake didn't remember the last time he'd wanted so strongly, been so out of his element.

"I'm not going anywhere. Luke may be a cock tease, but I'm not. Least of all with my own. Go get plates. And remember the napkins this time. I can start the movie. Darcy's a hottie."

"Are you serious? Darcy's a douchebag." Jake shook his head. "Want another beer?"

"People can be douches and still be hot. They're not mutually exclusive." A beer would have gone great with the spice and the tang of the food, and the movie, and the taste of Jake's mouth. "No beer! Uhhh, got a Pepsi in there?" Sober. He wanted sober. If this was going to be a one time thing, and honestly why wouldn't it be? Jake was straight, all evidence to the contrary. Van wanted to remember all of it. Shit. This really was a bad idea.

Caught up in his own head, Van missed the smile that spread across Jake's face. "I've got Pepsi."

In the kitchen Jake went straight to the refrigerator, opened the freezer and stuck his head in. His skin burned. His lungs hurt. Christ. His hands stuck to the ice tray, clamminess mocking him. He had kissed Van. A lot. Was he insane? He closed his lips together, the hint of mint and lip balm still there. The clink of the ice cubes in the glasses startled him. What was he doing? Plates, right. And napkins. And not beer. Even if Van said that it could never happen again, Jake would still have a sober memory of them kissing.

His stomach clenched. Clowns at the zoo. Axe-murdering clowns at the mother fucking zoo. Yeah, okay, pointless. Nothing after Van gyrating over him was ever going to work. Maybe if he dropped everything and went in and threw Van down on the couch ... Jake shook his head. Yeah, maybe Van would laugh at him and never speak to him again. He sighed, dug up a tray to put everything on, and headed back to brave his optimism and hope it held up next to whatever might go on in the living room.

*****

"How can you not like Darcy? Look at him, for fuck's sake." Van caught the end of his korma in a piece of naan. "You want Lalita to wind up with what's-his-face instead?" He shook his head. "You have no taste. And she's an idiot. She can't tell she's being played?" He licked his fingers. "Seriously?"

Jake swallowed. "Okay, first, shut up. Wickham, that's his name, knew what he was doing. She's out of her league. And Darcy's an idiot. You have the opportunity to go for Aishwarya Rai, you go for it. You just do. You don't listen to your best friend's sister when she's obviously a bitch who wants you for herself." He gulped more soda. "Also, second, you could stop licking your fingers at any point now, Hansis." He flushed. Hey, who needs beer when you can stick your foot in your mouth anyway? Not blushing like a fourteen year old virgin would also have been good.

"Like my fingers, do you, Jake?" Van sucked the last of the korma off the pad his middle finger, flashed a hint of teeth. "And just for the record, because I'm pretty sure we're done with the food portion of the evening, I wouldn't go for Lalita. And you know why?" He paused, touched his tongue to that same finger, watched Jake's hand tighten. "It's cause I'm gay."

"Oh." Jake's voice warbled a bit.

"Yeah. 'Oh.' So the point is that I don't get what's going on here exactly. Just got an itch to walk on the wild side? Wanna know how the other half lives?" He steeled himself, didn't want an answer. "I can work with that. I'm not usually into being someone's guinea pig, but you're not just anyone. And I get that it must be difficult to play Noah, and, I guess, not wonder a little." Van closed his eyes. This time the bite on his fingertip wasn't about seduction, but self-preservation. The thought of being anyone's experiment stung, but Jake's? Seeing him almost every day, having to break up and make up and now suddenly kiss on set. Maybe he couldn't do that. "We need boundaries though. A safe word or something. You're one of my best friends, Jake, and regardless of what goes down - or doesn't - tonight, we play a couple."

Jake hesitated. Van wasn't wrong about the work aspect being awkward if this went south. He wasn't wrong about not wanting to lose his best friend either, but ... "You're wrong." He clapped his palm to his mouth. Why did he keep speaking first and thinking second? Why?

"I'm wrong? No, I'm not. You're not leaving the show or anything? I know the contract stuff is up in the air, but that's bullshit. You'd have told me if you were leaving. Goutman would have told me that."

"Stop. Breathe. I'm not going anywhere on the show, or off it. That's not what you're wrong about." Jake pushed the coffee table further from them. He stacked Van's plate on top of his on the end table. "It is difficult to play Noah and not wonder, but not for the reasons you think. I had my big oh-my-god-I'm-gay freak out in ninth grade when the senior lead in Les Mis at my high school - Eric - pinned me against the inside of the stage left vom and stuck his tongue down my throat. Just because I wanted to act didn't mean I was gay. I thought it would be gross." He closed his eyes, lost in the memory. "But his hands were warm, and the scent of base on his skin nearly had me creaming myself. I was fifteen and Jean ValJean wanted to french me. Who was I to argue?" He shrugged. "We fooled around on and off until he graduated two months later. Eric's a math teacher in Oswego now, with a wife and two adorable girls. After that, there really wasn't anyone else I wanted. At least no guys. Chicks like me. They smell good; sweet and fruity. Easy, uncomplicated. I like easy. I like uncomplicated. I won't lie."

Jake slid off the couch, moved to kneel in front of Van. "You are none of those things. And you aren't Eric." He traced Van's cheekbones, the rasp of a five o'clock shadow, unbelievably beautiful lips. "All of that doesn't mean anything in the face of wanting to strip you bare and blow you until you come with my name on your lips and your hands pulling my hair." He reached up to Van's shocked face, focused on the brown of his eyes. "You think we can be done with the talking portion of this evening as well, and get on to the naked part?"

Van's heart pounded through Jake telling him he was wrong, wondered if it was possible that he was really the one following in the idiotic steps of his character and had fallen the fuck in love with the straight guy. But no. He refused. He hadn't done that since he was fifteen. So, again, no. Not going to happen. This was just a weird dry spell. He was confusing acting with something real. Which he never did. But again, whatever, because he was not in love with Jake, was emphatically, categorically not in love with his co-star. 

His co-star whose words were starting to penetrate his brain. Had he just said - ? Van gasped. Did Jake really - ? Jesus, maybe he was having a heart attack? His left arm wasn't hurting, but his ribs were threatening to exit like the alien out of Sigourney Weaver's stomach if Van didn't get his heart under control. "You're serious?"

"As a heart attack." Jake worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

And if that wasn't a sign that they spent too much time together? "Jake, this is a bad idea. Monumentally bad. You know that? We're risking a lot." Van was stalling. They both knew it. He carded his fingers through Jake's hair, imagined pulling it, guiding him over his cock. Christ.

"Yep. I know all that. You've said it at least a million times in the last four hours." Something sparked in Jake's eyes, blue turning bluer. "But think about what we could gain?" He fumbled with Van's belt buckle, grinned when he got past it and made quick work of the top button. "Please?" He stroked shaky fingers over Van's stomach, tangled his way into the hair beneath his navel. His eyes never left Van's.

Van's pulse slammed. Electricity danced inside his abdomen. He needed Jake's mouth now. Right now. Yesterday. Two hundred plus days ago when he'd first melted under the strength of one fake kiss. Desperate, Van licked into Jake's mouth, swallowed their mutual sounds with his tongue. Unconscious of his actions, Van canted his hips to help Jake unzip his jeans. His body froze at the first quick touch of Jake's fingers. After almost a year together on and off set, Van was intimately familiar with each callus, but not with them there. He panted against Jake's mouth, reveled in the taste of curry, pakora and Pepsi. "Nnngh," was the best verbal cue he could offer as touches became strokes.

"Off, off," Jake muttered. "Clothes off." 

There was no style, no rhyme nor reason. Van's shoes went god knows where and his pants were around his ankles. He tugged his shirt over his head and clawed at Jake's. "You too. I'm not going to be the only one naked here." He took the opportunity to free his legs and nearly swallowed his own tongue when he looked up. Jake stood in front of him, tall and pale. His muscles tightened like some sort of jungle cat as he dropped to his knees with that same controlled grace.

"Let me do this." Jake grazed his lips over Van's nipple even as he palmed open his thighs. "So hot." He tongued across Van's chest, encouraged by how not weird chest hair felt against his cheek after all this time.

"Hotter than Aishwarya Rai?"

"Man, yes. Way hotter." Jake bit hard at Van's collar bone. "There aren't even words." He soothed the pain of his teeth with a swipe of his tongue while his hands spread Van's legs further apart. Jake sprinkled kisses across Van's chest, his sides, explored every sound he could elicit with a glance of teeth or a swipe of tongue. He licked a circle around Van's belly button even as his fist curled around his dick. "Haven't done this in over ten years, so tell me if I hurt you or do something wrong."

Van nodded frantically, unable to find vocal abilities and trying desperately not to shove Jake onto his cock. His desire must have been evident by Jake's gritty chuckle as it blazed over Van's skin.

"Thank you," Van thought he heard, but how could that make sense when Jake's tongue lathed a path from his balls to his slit before he enveloped the crown in hotwetperfect. Jake's hands shifted to Van's back, edged him forward, deeper into the hollow-cheeked suction of his mouth.

"Oh Jesus," Van whispered. His fingernails bit into Jake's shoulder. "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus."

Jake did something with his tongue that Van's scrambled nerves couldn't explain before he pulled off. "It's Jake, not Jesus, but I guess that's close enough." He nuzzled sweat sticky hair against Van's wrists, bit at the tender skin where his veins burned.

"Asshole."

"I preferred Jesus." Jake crouched lower, mouthed over Van's balls, press his tongue just under them, not moving, more resting against them. He adjusted his hands to Van's inner thighs, rubbed his thumbs over sensitive skin.

Van's fingers pulled at Jake's hair. Screaming 'move already' seemed tacky, but god damn! He jerked his hips, whimpered something that maybe sounded like please.

"I got you. Always got you." Jake ran a wet line of kisses back to the head of Van's cock. He adjusted his jaw, opened the inside of his mouth somehow. Then he was deep throating Van, his nosed pressed into the wiry curls of his pubic hair and his throat compressing all around him.

Van threw his head back, latched his hands into Jake's scalp. He couldn't control his movements, fucked his way past any concern for Jake's non-existent gag reflex. "Jesus, Jake. Jesus. God."

Jake hummed deep in his throat and sent tremors from Van's hair to his toenails. He shifted his hand on Van's thigh, so on the next bob of his head, he coated Van's dick and his own finger. Jake withdrew the finger, but focused his mouth on the vein underneath the head of Van's cock. He flattened his tongue, coaxed more pre-come from him on each stroke.

The urgent tug on Van's hip almost threw him. The pause in Jake's motions nearly made him see double. "Don't you dare stop now," he threatened as Jake actually pulled off again.

"I'm not. Just needed something is all." He coated his index finger in the slick of Van's pre-come. "I didn't have proper lube," he said by way of explanation.

"Jake? You don't... I mean... What are you doing?" Van held Jake's head in place. "Seriously."

Jake dipped his finger behind Van's testicles, circled around his hole. "Somewhere between me wanting you naked and sucking your dick, did you, like, have a stroke or get amnesia?" He tested resistance, pressed the tip of his finger into Van and simultaneously swallowed him again.

Van's body didn't know whether to shove forward or back and his lungs shuddered in his chest. "Christ. I'm. Oh god. Jake, Jake, Jake." He gasped.

Jake responded by fucking his finger further into him and flicking his tongue right there. 

God, was that? Oh shit. The hint of teeth Van would bet was an accident was the last straw. He broke with a shout, balls tightening, cock pouring come down Jake's throat. He craned his neck forward to watch as his friend? co-star? lover? gulped down what he could and continued to suck him through the aftershocks.

Van pet at Jake's biceps, his shoulders, his hair. He traced around Jake's eyes when he stared at him, his face as Jake eased off his now softening cock.

"That was -" Van scrounged for a word but came up empty.

"It really was." Jake smiled. "Everything I wanted."

"Oh." Van tried to focus past his own post-orgasmic state with minimal success. "You. I want to-" he gestured with his hand in the direction of Jake's dick.

"I, uhh, took care of that."

Van frowned. "That doesn't seem fair."

Jake shifted, shy all of a sudden, aware of how naked they both were. "The night isn't over yet." He shivered. "I've, umm, got another TV in my bedroom. Want to curl up in there with me and the X-Men?"

Van held out his hand to help Jake up from the ground. His hand trembled and his heart caught in his throat. "That sounds like the best idea so far."

 

**part three: Better than A Brick to The Head**

 

"How did I miss this before?"

"Because you weren't having some weird existential gay crisis in which you decide you couldn't live life without my dick in your mouth?" Van maybe didn't want to admit it, but being curled up against Jake was amazing. Jake smelled like Indian food, alcohol, sex and a strange, not unpleasant, combination of the two of them. Van wasn't sure how he'd gone back to the refraction time of a teenager, but he wasn't going to complain about that either.

"You're an ass, Hansis." Jake yanked him closer. "Still," he whispered into Van's hair. "You might be onto something."

"Maybe you missed how gay this script was because you were checking out my ass. You seem to have a lot to say about it." He shut his eyes, denied that Jake's scent could be such a turn on after a blowjob. A really incredible blowjob. Jesus, had Jake been practicing? Van shook his head. There were some things better not to think about. He watched the Professor and Magneto interact with each other. "Some day I'd like to do a movie like this. Well, okay," he amended. "Maybe the first one or the second one. This one? Not so much."

"Except that it's really gay? Like, I don't know, gayer than you?" Jake's hands rubbed at Van's back, detailed soft swirls on his neck.

He didn't seem to mind Van's gayness. Or he hadn't. Fuck. Was it over? Had Van actually been the experiment he feared. "Yeah, well, you like it."

"Yeah," came the soft reply. "I really do."

Van tipped his head up, met Jake's stare. "You're not freaking out." A statement of wonder, not a question of fact. His fingers tightened in the fleece blanket wrapped around them. He didn't want to know if he was wrong, didn't care, just wanted this moment if nothing else.

Jake cupped Van's jaw, angled their heads and planted a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. "I'm not freaking out. I wanted this. And again, I'm going to have to ask you about a stroke or spontaneous Alzheimer's. Stop it. Now watch the movie and deconstruct for me how gay it is while I contemplate you as Wolverine." His hand rubbed Van's scalp, made Van want to purr while he leaned into Jake's strong and capable movements.

"Me as Wolverine? You're insane, dude. You. You would be perfect. We'd have to grow your hair some, but that'd be hot. And your canines? Much cooler to be Wolverine than a vampire. Mmm." Van stuck the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he pictured Jake in a leather jacket, his clothes and body roughed up in all the right ways. "Ripped, faded jeans. A white, or maybe grey, wife-beater. Leather jacket. Jesus, I'm turning myself on just thinking about it." His skin burned across his cheekbones. His throat ached. He pictured Jake as Wolverine in some of his favorite spank bank scenes, but figured maybe now wasn't exactly the moment to bring it up. Except in that the third movie sucked and that blowjob didn't, at least, not in a bad way. He coughed. Oh god, he couldn't do it. Was there an appropriate way to go from freaking out about the monumentally stupid idea of Jake wanting Van, to receiving an earth shattering orgasm, to confessing that maybe, just maybe, Van wanted nothing more than for Jake, all aggressive and growly, to be dressed up as Wolverine and then fuck Van through the mattress, against the wall, on the stairs, and various other places as well?

"Hey? Where'd you just go?" Jake's hand stopped moving.

"Nothing. I mean, what, no! Nowhere. I was just -" Van bit his lip, stared at the screen. "Shut up, so I can dissect the gayness going on here. And yes, Magneto and the Professor are definitely doing it when they go to Jean Grey's." He chewed on his knuckle and denied himself the moan arcing up his spine and threatening to spill out at the thought of giving himself over to Jake and saying Do your worst. Not that he knew what Jake's worst was, or even if Jake had a worst to do. Maybe Do your best would be better? Even though there had been that confession of not-quite-heterosexuality in high school, what did that really mean?

Jake slipped a hand to Van's stomach. "You just went somewhere again. Are you?" The echo of Jake's nervous swallow vibrated in Van's ear. "I mean, do you think this was a mistake?" The silence of Jake's held breath filled the room before he started talking rapidly. "You could, umm, I don't know, lie to me or something and just let me have the rest of the night. That would ... actually, that would suck. A lot. But it'd be better than you telling me I give lousy head and that we never should have done this and as soon as you find your lack-of-underwear and pants, you'll be leaving."

Van shook his head, realized belatedly that his gesture gave Jake entirely the wrong impression. "Look, it's not like that. At all. You're high if you think that was a bad blowjob. And of course I'm not going to lie to you. If I thought you needed tips on strategies, I'd have given them at the time. I don't want my dick bitten off on the repeat performance, y'know?"

"Repeat performance? Really?"

Van should have known that Jake wasn't relaxed, but the difference in his body was palpable. He turned his body to straddle Jake's, thigh to thigh and god it was hard (all puns intended) to concentrate. "My time to ask you about head trauma, I guess. Look, can we just cover this once and for all and move past it? Dares, lots of them, bad judgment maybe on my part, but I still stuck my tongue down your throat and loved every moment of it. Then next, Indian food and a smokin' blow job. Now, you and me in a state of undress watching a really bad movie while I daydream about you as Wolverine fucking me until I can't sit down for a week. That's what's going on. That's where we are. That's where I'm going when I daydream. Now," Van swallowed. "Are we clear enough for us to go back and watch the damn movie?"

Jake's grip changed. He palmed Van's back. "You want to go back to the movie after a proposition like that? You don't play fair, Hansis."

"On the contrary, I play more than fair." He leaned forward, licked a stripe from the dip in the center of Jake's neck up to his ear. "You have no idea just how good I can play." Van shifted again, rocked his cock against Jake's, scraped teeth across his ear before returning down the wet trail he had painted with his tongue to suck at his Adam's apple. The low indeterminate noises encouraged him further. "I just realized something."

"Nnngh. Christ, now? You realized something now?"

The edge of Jake's nails bit at Van's skin, confirming Van's image of Jake as Wolverine. "How come you're the only one who got to truth and dare tonight? Seems like you're the one not playing fair, Silbermann." Van's heart pounded. His dick throbbed. "I bet I could come up with a really good dare." He reached one of his hands between their bodies, wrapped his fingers around their collective hard-ons, nearly killed himself not moving. "So what's it gonna be? Truth? or Dare?" He held his breath, allowed himself to slip deep into the hypnotic blue of Jake's eyes. His hand remained frozen, delicious torture as Van ached to touch in ways he had wanted to do for far too long.

 

"Dare?" Jake blinked, confused. He wants me to think now? "Umm, yeah, dare sounds good."

"Don't want the truth first?"

Jake chewed his lip, shook his head. "I don't think I'd understand anything you said." And I don't know that I want to hear it.

"My game this time. So my dare." Van curled into the heat of Jake's skin, purred against his ear. "Want you inside me. Dare you to fuck me." He crawled off Jake's lap, put space between them on the bed, waited. He yanked a pillow toward him and frowned. "Why do you have so many pillows on your bed? Aren't these three usually on your couch?" Van knocked them to the floor.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Jake blurted out. "I mean, it's not like that hasn't been happening for months, and then you, you're tongue, my mouth, and Bollywood, and fuck." He dropped his forehead into his hands, tucked his knees toward his chin. "You are, aren't you? This is some weird, like, porno-version Candid Camera thing, and you're literally trying to kill me." He bit at his thumb, hated his nervous habits.

"No? What? I asked you to fuck me. How is that killing you?" Van's voice broke. "I thought, I mean, don't you want that?"

"You have no idea just how much I want. But you propositioned me, and then ask me about the pillows. Seriously? My dick is currently using up most of my blood and maybe other people's at this moment, and you want to talk about interior design?" Jake knelt up, swiped his hands through his hair. Could homicide be justifiable at a point like this? He hadn't had too many Twinkies or anything dumb like that, but really? Really? Was Van that oblivious? "Yes, I want you. And by the way, yes, I've never done this before. And yeah, okay, maybe I'm kinda scared and sorta figured you for -" His hands flailed. What words could he use? "Shit, I don't know anyway to say this that doesn't sound dumb. But, umm, I guess I thought I'd be the one bending over, you know, just seemed like maybe, I mean, from what you'd told me, you'd -"

"Oh? Oh. Oh! Yeah, okay, now I get what you're saying. And sometimes you're right. Sometimes. But you? God, Jake. Have you looked at yourself recently? Or, I don't know, ever? Because who wouldn't want to bend over for you? I mean, unless they're deficient. And blind. And deaf. And just stupid." Van tugged at his own hair. "Are we really arguing over you fucking me senseless? Because that was not exactly the way I intended this dare to go down."

Jake breathed deep, willed himself not to come at the all consuming knowledge that Van wasn't kidding, wasn't running, that Van was breathing heavy and his eyes were currently swallowed by his pupils. His heart heaved under his ribcage, his mouth dried. He coughed, managed to find his words. "Top drawer behind you in the nightstand. Rubbers, which, umm, I'm clean by the way. Haven't been with a girl in, umm, a long time. Get tested regularly just in case. Probably should have asked you before I swallowed. Shit, you're clean right? And you aren't allergic to latex or anything?"

Van laughed until tears ringed his eyes and threatened to spill over. "Oh God, I want you, Jake. You're the perfect boy scout on and off set, all wrapped up in this insanely hot package. I'm germ and allergy free and we can do whatever you want as long as by the end of the night I get you inside me." He rolled over, fumbled into the drawer, pulled out a handful of condoms and a bottle of lube. "Peppermint? People make Peppermint lube? Why would anyone bother with that?"

"Shut up, asshole." He gave in and bit at Van's abdomen, delighted in the sounds and shivers he could produce across golden skin. "They make lavender and cinnamon-vanilla flavored lubes also. Trust me. Peppermint is awesome. Don't mock it unless you've tried it. Anyway, I'm not a boy scout. Also, this stuff is the best. It's edible, vegan and organic. A win-win for everyone." Jake experimented again, dipped his tongue into Van's navel, scraped his teeth around it. His hands clasped at the swells of Van's hips, ignored that his friend was almost falling off the bed, pinned him still and rubbed his cheek across the trail of hair that led to an impressive erection. "You'll love it. I promise. Make you a changed man." His tongue caught at the head of Van's dick, swirled around it, lapped at the slit. Jake groped for the bottle, let a tiny amount drizzle onto his tongue, and then returned to bathing silky hard flesh.

"Wait."

Jake grinned, his mouth otherwise occupied.

"That - shit - it tingles" Van's hands clutched at Jake's shoulders

A string of saliva hung from the corner of Jake's lip. He brushed across it, sucked on his finger. "I know. Awesome, right?" He shifted their bodies, manhandled them into a better position. Jake heard gasped moans, watched the flush spill across tanned cheeks. Van really did want someone to get all he-man with him. That was, huh, Jake could do that. "Stop complaining and kiss me." He crawled up, slinked bare skin against bare skin, held his mouth mere inches away. "Now, Van."

There was an undeniable hotness to Van doing what Jake wanted him to do. And he wasn't going to lie about the fact that some of his hotter masturbatory moments involved Van just like that. And yeah, okay, more likely it was Luke being a little bitch or Jake being Van's bitch. Fuck if it mattered, with the soft wet of tongue requesting entrance, and perfect lips pressed to his. The noise in the back of his throat, that was him, but the contented purr vibrating between them? All Van.

Jake fisted his hands in the messy bleached strands of Van's hair, surprisingly soft for the amount of damage they underwent as Luke. He pulled back, let air into his burning lungs. "Again," but this time he shoved himself at Van, buried himself inside the taste of Indian and urgency and nownownow. His movements became sloppy as he fought his own desire and the rush of heat from the lube between them. "Kinda wanna suck you off again," Jake confessed, before remembering his role. He lowered his eyelids, added a grumble to his voice. "But that's not going to happen. It's your turn. I deserve it. Show me what that perfect mouth of yours can do, Van."

 

"About fucking time." Van rolled them so he had Jake pinned. He licked his lips. They tickled like his chapstick. He laughed. "Okay, you may be winning me over with this stuff."

"Told you." Jake rocked his hips up. "Stop stalling."

"Wasn't stalling, I was savoring. There's a difference." He grabbed the lube and carefully coated his fingers. Van stuck his tongue out, tasted the cool shock of it on his own skin. He contemplated coating himself and screwing his initial urges, but no. He'd seen Jake on his knees, hopefully had the image burned into his retinas forever. Now he wanted different, wanted to give in, wanted to offer himself, and be taken. Van reached out, leaned back, reached out again. "I'm a liar." A blush flamed his cheeks and he wondered if Jake slipped speed in with the peppermint how his heart skipped. "I'm stalling now." He pooled more of the cool gel in his hands, stroked timidly over Jake. "I - God Jake. You're incredible, mouth-watering actually. And we're doing this. We're doing this right now. I dared you to fuck me, but I'm changing the name of the game. I'm going to fuck you on myself on your gorgeous cock. Gonna, slick you up, slick myself up, and ride you like I've always wanted." Want scorched his nerve endings, miscued his synapses until his body couldn't figure out which way was up. "First things first. Need to make sure you're ready. Need to make sure you understand."

"I'm supposed to understand something?" Jake's voice, fucked out and low, still scratchy from the blowjob, heated Van near to boiling.

"Hopefully." Van slithered down Jake's legs, aware of the curve of every hair, ever muscle pressed between them. He licked his lips once, twice, watched blue eyes and black lashes follow his every move. "Now shut up and enjoy this." He eased his jaw open and dipped forward. Mint and pre-come blew his senses wide open, filled his nose, his eyes, his throat and took up residency. He whimpered. Jake's impressive cock tagged the back of his throat, flirted with his gag reflex. He's fucking lengthy everywhere. But Van was nothing if not determined. He pulled back, pet at Jake's sac, even while he blew cool breath over the dark crown. His tongue lapped a line up the thick vein underneath before swirling around the head. Van worshipped the velvet smooth contrast of tangy skin and icy peppermint. He placed damp and sticky open-mouthed kisses over Jake's thighs, his hips, the trail of hair that led like an arrow to his erection. More kisses, but this time Van added pressure from his tongue and gentle sucking sensations.

"You think, I mean, do you want me to ... you?" Jake choked out.

"You want to touch me?"

"Already did, idiot. It's how you wound up coming. Now I want you to do like you said. Ride me before my goddamned dick explodes. Please." Jake's hand rubbed at Van's shoulders, toyed with his hair.

Jake whined as Van placed the lube in his hands, regardless of whether he would deny it later or not when teased. He stopped breathing when Van replied, "Both of us. Want your fingers and mine in me, Jake. I'll show you." And Van could feel it, knew what Jake was thinking - always knew what Jake was thinking. This could work. He was maybe about to throw up. The fist of God punched him in the stomach and it hurt. He occasionally fucked around, who didn't? But this? With Jake? Oh God. He twisted the clean fingers of his right with Jake's left, closed his eyes, let the warmth seep into his hand. "Shit. I'm sorry, but I gotta ... Truth first. Okay. Truth. I can't do the dare without it. So, you gotta listen, okay? You can't ... I mean ... this is big. Blow jobs, yeah? Those can be casual. I mean, not really, but, fuck. You know what I'm saying, right? Who hasn't gotten boozed and done something like that?"

"I'm not boozed." Jake's blue eyes narrowed in on Van's. "I wasn't earlier."

"Me neither." Van's chest stuttered.

"So, you're saying this is important? That if we do this, if we go all the way or whatever, that it's somehow different from blow jobs?"

"I'm saying ... I guess I'm saying that you're my best friend, but you'll be something else in a few minutes. You can't just be my best friend if this happens. I can't do that. Jake, I don't want to. I don't know what's going to happen, but I want this. I want you and me to do this, to be something. I want what Luke and Noah are too stupidly written to get. I want to offer you dares, to stick my tongue down your throat, to curl up, watch Bollywood and make out on your sofa. I want it all, the fucking fairy tale where the poor pool boy meets his prince and they walk off into the sunset. Can you give me that?"

"Am I the poor pool boy? You're the one with the contract, here. My career wouldn't be in jeopardy. My life wouldn't be over. This is your call. I think I've been as obvious as I can be without throwing a brick at your head with a note around it that says Dear Van, be my boyfriend or I will die. Love, Jake. Which, I gotta tell you, it's tempting some times. You've got a thick head. You might not even notice." Jake spun the plastic bottle in his fingers. He sighed and put it back on the nightstand. "We don't have to do this. We don't have to do anything."

Van frowned. Jake was more than a little bit of an idiot. A gorgeous idiot with the best neck and the hottest torso, and moves that made him weak in the knees, but apparently also an insecure idiot. "You could be my prince? I've always wanted one." He trained his eyes on Jake. With his other hand, he took back the bottle. "I even know how to figure out if he's the right one. No, don't ask. I'll tell you some other time. Promise." He laughed. Van held up Jake's hand, sucked on his fingers, licked at the webbing between them. He leaned forward, with his other hand he pressed one finger inside himself. The shiver had him biting gently at the pads of Jake's fingers, a moan slipped past his lips. He maintained contact, kept up his gentle slurping, but added a second finger. He spread his fingers, thrust his cock against Jake's. "You. Now." Words began to lose meaning. "Youyouyou." Van released his grip on Jake's fingers and leaned into kiss him. He nibbled his way into Jake's mouth on the rush of sensation as Jake brushed across his ass. "Nnngh. Yes."

"I got you." Jake's gestures were less timid, more determined. He removed Van's fingers, replacing them with his own, even while he let Van explore the curve of his mouth, the bite of his teeth.

"Yeah. You do." Van inhaled, kept his eyes shut. "You do." He spilled lube into his hand, coated Jake's cock in less than steady strokes. "Want to come while you're inside me. I'm ready." He rocked himself down. There was no burn, no pain, just strong pressure sliding across his prostate. "God, so ready." He clutched against Jake's biceps, bit his lip against the sensation of emptiness. "You?"

 

"Yeah." Jake hesitated, unsure of how this maneuver worked with a guy. He ringed his dick, tried to line it up against the smooth slick of Van's ass. Go slow. Gentle. Slow. Slow. Slow, he prompted himself.

Van was clearly having none of that. He lifted his body, spread his thighs wider. "In me."

"I don't want to hurt you." He offered a shallow thrust, gasped at the slickhottight of his dick entering Van. "Oh god."

"You won't. You won't." Van shoved Jake's hands away, adjusted to fill himself in one smooth, deep motion.

"Oh fuck -"

"Holy shit -"

"Are you?"

"Don't -"

"Can't -"

"Christ."

"Nownownownownow."

Jake rolled his hips up, meeting the downward thrust. His eyes crossed behind his eyelids and the world paled slightly. "Jesus." He shifted his legs, adjusted his angle. Something worked in that. Van's hands bit into Jake's arms. Note to self: wear long sleeves on camera? He flexed, needing the tangible proof of finger shaped bruises to assure himself this wasn't one of his recurring wet dreams. "Can't believe this is happening." Close, so close. Fuck. Jake, don't come yet. Do not come yet, damnit. He reached for Van's dick, craving the weight, the texture, the fucking anchor of knowing he wasn't the only one fucked out and desperate. "Van."

Head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, Van was way hotter than any of Jake's dreams. "God, don't stop. Don't stop." He thrust forward, ground back, his body looking for all intents and purposes like it was trying to do both simultaneously. The backs of his thighs slid across the tops of Jake's, caused Jake to shiver, skid deeper.

He jacked his palm across Van, knew they were both almost there from the furious panting and the lack of coordination they both demonstrated. "You gotta. Van, need you to." As always, they understood each other without full sentences. Van wrapped his hand around Jake's, both of them fisting his erection, slicking him to orgasm. Neither expected it, nor were they surprised when a few short strokes later, they were coming almost in tandem. Van painting white ropes across their knuckles and Jake's stomach. Jake emptying himself at the squeezetugperfectpressure of Van's ass around him.

Jake couldn't breathe. Van on top of him, collapsing their lungs, smearing them both with sticky fluids. His bed below him, soaking up random fluids that he was sure would leave behind stains. He stared, eyelids wide. "We just? For real? And you? And me?" He blushed. "Sorry." He cradled his hands in the small of Van's back. "I just never thought this would happen, you know? Didn't think that you'd ever let me, ever want me."

"Shut up." Van kissed him. Soft lips pressed to his forehead, his eyelids, his jaw, his lips. "We did just, for real, you and me. It almost felt inevitable, you know? Like we've been leading up to it." Van's shy smile, so different from his usual confident smirk, made Jake's heart flutter. "I'm crushing you aren't I? Fuck. I'm sorry."

Jake's arms tightened. "No, wait. Don't move. I like you here. I'm not ready to let go."

"Oh." Van caged Jake inside his elbows. He worried his lip. "That's, umm, that's good. I'm not ready to let you go." He nuzzled at Jake's jaw, licked his way into his mouth, sucked gently on his tongue. "Think maybe we could teach Luke and Noah a thing or two?"

Jake laughed. "Not on daytime." He rolled them to their side, his now spent dick slipping out and leaving him bereft. His body relaxed when Van entangled their legs. "I can get something to get us cleaned up."

"No leave it. I'm fine. I can help you with the laundry and, umm, the shower later?" He rested his head on Jake's chest. "Now be quiet and let me finish watching the movie."

"I probably shouldn't tell you this, but, umm, I maybe really do have the note and the brick and everything. In case you didn't get it."

"This was better."

Jake planted a kiss on the top of Van's head. "Yeah. It really was."


End file.
